Page 15 of The Greek Tycoon's Unwilling Wife

No, don’t mention the locked door or protest about it—that would take things to a deeper level. One that was clouded by the past between them that he remembered nothing about.

‘The one who told me not to fuss.’

That actually won her a tiny sign of acknowledgement from the dark, distant man before her. Not a nod, that would have been too much of a concession, but the proud head inclined faintly to one side and something flickered in the black eyes that might have been respect.

‘Kyrie Petrakos…’

It was Leander who spoke, inserting his words carefully into the tensely silent stand-off that had come between them. He said something in Greek, speaking swiftly and, Becca thought, rather nervously. Obviously Leander felt that his job was on the line—so would he continue to support her?

Andreas’ response was in the same language, sharp and obviously dismissive—a dismissal that was repeated when the younger man hesitated, looking distinctly uncomfortable and unsure.

‘It’s all right, Leander,’ Becca put in, turning to him, wanting to reassure him. ‘You don’t have to worry about me.’

Out of the corner of her eye she could sense Andreas’ head snap round, feel the dark fire of his eyes burning into the back of her head as she spoke, and she could see the reflection of the furious glare in the concern on Leander’s face. But she made herself smile, pretending at a composure she was far from feeling.

‘Really…’ she said. ‘This isn’t your problem.’

As she watched Leander leave, the silence behind her seemed to grow all the more ominous, all the more oppressive, and she held her breath as the door swung to after him, waiting for the inevitable explosion that she had sparked off with her response.

CHAPTER FOUR

TO HER astonishment it didn’t come. Instead there was a faint, soft sound. The sound of Andreas drawing in his breath and letting it out again in a deliberate attempt at control.

‘So who put you in charge?’ he drawled cynically. ‘Who gave you permission to give my staff orders?’

‘Not orders.’

Becca caught her own breath, aiming to match his cold-toned restraint as she made herself turn round, coming to face him. She wouldn’t let his imposing stature, the arrogant set of his jaw, or the cold light in his eyes overawe her. If she did then he would win and she knew that Andreas Petrakos had never lost this sort of a battle in his life. He hadn’t almost tripled the family fortune in his thirty-three years by being anyone’s pushover, least of all any woman’s. But she had to manage this somehow; had to win herself at least permission to stay. The repercussions for Daisy if she didn’t were too terrible even to consider. She wasn’t going to let herself even imagine the possibility of defeat.

‘You’d already told him to leave. I was just making sure that he didn’t feel obliged to stay to protect me.’

‘You understand Greek?’

Just for a moment Andreas sounded so taken aback that Becca actually allowed herself the smallest hint of a smile. Typical male—typical Greek male, she told herself. He made assumptions from his lordly position in charge of everything and was stunned to find that perhaps those suppositions and his assessment of the situation were not quite as perfect as he believed.

‘I don’t have to know precisely what words you used to know just what you meant,’ she pointed out. ‘So tell me, do you always order everyone around as if they were a dog that was yours to command?’

‘Leander values his job too much to do anything stupid.’

‘Leander knows that you’re in a vicious mood and liable to bite his head off if he didn’t do as he was told. You surely didn’t really think that I was flirting with him? You have to know that…’

Yikes, no!

Mentally Becca screeched to a halt, slamming the brakes on the foolishly betraying words she had almost let slip. Don’t go down that road—just don’t!

Had she really been about to say to Andreas’s face that he had to know that when he was in a room—anywhere nearby—any other man just didn’t have a chance? That beside his incandescent male sexuality, every other male within a hundred miles became just a shadow of himself, fading into insignificance beside Andreas?

‘I have to know that what?’ Andreas enquired with silky menace when she caught herself up, biting hard on her foolish tongue. His brilliant dark eyes had narrowed sharply, the look he turned on her from them shrewdly assessing, and to Becca’s horror she felt a rush of embarrassed heat flooding her cheeks.

‘That I’m with you,’ she managed to force out.

Her voice grew stronger as she recalled her thoughts of moments before, putting them into words to get herself out of the hole she had dug for herself. If she was his current mistress, then she would probably laugh off Andreas’ overreaction just now.

‘And even if you don’t want anyone to fuss, if you’re determined to dismiss your staff like that, then someone needs to keep an eye on you.’

‘And you’re happy to do that?’

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